Trick of Sweet Time
by Odyssion
Summary: Krayoncentric. It is a cruel thing to foresee one's own death. How do you tell someone that you're about to die? [Krayon x Raenef IV, Eclipse x Raenef V]
1. The Visit

**Trick of Sweet Time**

_Disclaimer:_ This is a purely non-profit story written for entertainment purposes only. The characters of Demon Diary belong to their respective owners.

_Summary:_ Although he denied it, Demon Lord Krayon of Egae could tell his finale was fast approaching. He instinctively knew it; the rest was just a trick of sweet time. Krayon x Raenef IV, Eclipse x Raenef V :in progress:

_Author's Notes:_ I don't know what inspired this, but I'm actually pretty happy with it. I know demon lords are supposed to be "immortal", but then how would you have a 4th generation? Forever is not forever. Enjoy things while they last.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_"Why so glum, love?"_

_Krayon turned dejectedly away from the mirror to face his lover. "I'm getting so old," he whined. "Very soon, I'm going to look a terrible wreck."_

_He looked back in the mirror, and studied his reflection with a grimace; there simply was no more youthful charm. Slender-fingered hands, mischievous and childlike, soon covered his eyes._

_"No you're not, so stop obsessing," the dark-haired demon lord said with a laugh, gently caressing his lover's face._

_Krayon brushed his hands away, agitated. "I can't help it! You wouldn't understand; you're still young."_

_Warm arms wrapped around him, and a guttural voice whispered in his ear._

_"Isn't it sad that all benefits go to youth?"_

_"Tragic," Krayon pouted. He turned around to be met with deepest emerald eyes and unblemished skin. "But I guess as long as I have your youth, Raenef, I can't feel too old."_

-

Sitting in front of the self-same mirror as he had many years before, the curly-haired fop of a demon lord studied his reflection with much more scrutiny. There was not a single part of his face he admired now; his expression lines were too permanent, his eyes were losing their lustre, and his hair laid flat on his head without any sort of vivacity. All of it served to remind him of his impending retirement from youthful living and any semblance of fun. As he carefully brushed his once-enviable hair, he noticed ruefully how veined and wrinkled his hands had become. But he firmly pushed all depressing thoughts aside as he meticulously got dressed; it wouldn't do to be depressed. After all, today was a special day.

His carriage was waiting when he stepped out of the door, travelling cloak drawn tightly around him to guard against the lashing wind and rain. The mud beneath his feet squelched loudly and he was appalled by how insistently it clung to his polished boots. Sighing, he stepped inside and the door closed behind him with a soft click; the sound of hooves of the demon horses was soon heard as his journey began.

He didn't know why he felt the way he did; in all honesty, he looked much better than most demons did at his age. Lately he couldn't sleep or eat, and the accursed rain kept him from burning villages. He hated the dark bags that accompanied the insomniac, and he didn't dare do anything strenuous lest his body gave way entirely. How embarrassing would that be? How long had it been since he'd last gotten laid? He tried to think back, but realized that the fact that he had to "think back" was an indication of his dire straits. Gods, he hated being old.

The steady pitter-patter of the rain evoked a long-stored memory, taking him back to another rainy day of so long ago.

-

_"What are you doing there, Raenef?" the curly-haired demon lord asked, poking his head around the door._

_"Painting," came the stoic reply, but Krayon was absolutely shocked._

_"Painting? I never knew you painted, Raenef! It seems so…not you?" He walked into the room, eyes fixed on Raenef and the back of the canvas, sitting serenely like a lover. For a moment, he was inexplicably jealous._

_"Though I admit it can be a fruitless use of time, it serves in helping me to clear my mind when I need to." He applied another thick brushstroke to the canvas, dabbing the brush debonairly against the paint palette in his hand. _

_Krayon, finally seeing the picture, smiled to himself. "I don't know why, but when I thought painting, I thought of meadows and sunshine. I should've known better, of course. You wouldn't paint anything unless it was absolutely miserable."_

_The canvas was bathed almost entirely in black, with tinges of deep purple and dark blue swirled into the mix. The colours depicted a small boat caught in a tremendous storm that raged amongst the waves._

_Sighing, Krayon looked out the large window at the dark sky overhead, listening to the music of the raindrops._

_"Do you ever go outside, love? It would do that complexion of yours some good."_

_Raenef smiled almost imperceptibly to the canvas. Applying one last stroke, he put down his palette of paint and the brush. "Alright then. We'll go outside."_

_Krayon was startled out of his reverie. "What—now!"_

_"It was your idea."_

_"Well, yes, but I meant in the sun… on a nice day…"_

_"It's a beautiful day."_

_"Rae—"_

_But before he could protest, Raenef had grabbed his hand and transported them both outside. The pouring rain soaked them both instantly._

_Raenef laughed at Krayon's indignant look as his hair lost its curls. "How's my complexion looking now?"_

_"It'll look terrible by the time **I'm** through with it!"_

_And he had lunged at the laughing Raenef, who merely dodged him and ran away…_

-

'Probably the only time I've ever seen you truly laugh', Krayon thought to himself as he felt the carriage slow. 'How much livelier you made me feel…'

The door of the coach opened, and he stepped out onto the cobblestone path with an umbrella in hand. In front of him was the large arch gate guarded by twin gargoyles that was the entrance to the cemetery of Demon Lords. He tapped his foot three times on the cobblestone and said, "Raenef IV."

Instantly, the pathway moved of its own accord and he was led down the winding track. On the way, he passed many tombs of people who he remembered, of the ones in (he hated to think it) his generation. Sighing, he was grateful when he finally arrived at his destination: a large marble tomb with sentinel pillars, and the name "Raenef" engraved in gold calligraphy on the top.

Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a vivid black rose tied with a striking red ribbon, he laid it fondly at the front steps.

"Well, love… happy anniversary."

If he ever half-expected there to be a reply (as he always secretly did), he was once again disappointed. The tomb remained immobile and silent, forever foreboding to those who drew breath. Unable to enter and unable to leave, he stood rooted to the spot, letting the umbrella drop oh-so-slightly so that the rain caught part of his face.

"How many years has it been, Raenef? It's been far too long…" he trailed off, speaking only to himself and the wind. "I can feel it coming. It won't be long for me, I'm afraid."

He sighed a sigh of pure regret, and continued speaking. "I miss you. I miss you telling me to stop obsessing over everything. I was looking in the mirror this morning, and it made me think of you. I think I was always in love with your youth as much as you… but I guess even the young can die."

He irritably wiped away the solitary tear rolling down his cheek.

"Well… I can't stay here forever," he said with more cheerfulness. "I'll be seeing you, love." He blew a kiss that carried on the wind, and tapped the cobblestone twice. He turned around one final time at the gate to stare at the tomb that he wouldn't be seeing again for a long while.

Slamming the carriage door shut behind him, he felt better as he knew he wasn't going to be alone anymore.

-

"Chris, you idiot, that's not how you do it!" Erutis snapped, giving Chris a hard hit to the head.

"Well, if you're so smart, Miss Demonslayer, why the hell don't you show me!" Chris retorted, momentarily stopping the erratic swinging of his sword to glare at his female version.

"Fine, I will!"

"FINE!"

From a mile away, Eclipse watched the two humans in the courtyard with slight contempt and a resounding headache.

"Master Raenef," he began, "how much longer do you intend to keep these humans?"

Raenef looked up from his book, and rested his chin on his hand. "For as long as they want to stay, I suppose," he finally answered.

"And should they never want to leave…?" the headache was starting to feel much worse for some reason.

"Then I guess we're stuck with them forever."

One of his veins pulsed; he still wasn't able to convince Raenef that Chris and Erutis needed to be gone. Not merely for propriety, but for privacy's sake. He and Raenef had been having a perfectly intimate moment the previous night, when both the so-called demonslayer and priest both burst into the room, needing Raenef's judgment on who was right (they had been arguing about tomatoes or something…). He had managed to launch a few fireballs before Raenef could stop him, but sadly they had done very little damage. He would have to find some potion or draught that made the drinker unable to speak for about a week.

At least in this case, forever only meant 'until they die'. He was more than thankful that neither of them was immortal (he shuddered at this disturbing thought). Feeling slightly better at this lovely thought, he was about to doze into a wonderful stupor when a shrill voice paralysed him. Horror-struck, he prayed to all evil entities he could think of to make it all a terrible dream, but to no avail. The oh-so-familiar and not-so-welcome voice made the presence of its owner known.

"Bonjoooooouuur!"

**TBC**

* * *

_AN:_ Krayon... French? Ah well. 


	2. It's Not Unusual

**Trick of Sweet Time**

_Disclaimer:_ This is a purely non-profit story written for entertainment purposes only. The characters of Demon Diary belong to their respective owners.

_Author's Notes:_ If you were interested in seeing where I was going with this… well… the answer is not very far. It's really just supposed to be an angsty sort of thing, and then end. Sorry if you were expecting a little more. And for certain people (_ahem_) who are complaining about my prolific-ness, I deviated from my Naruto craze especially for them. What do I get? "I hate you". Doesn't being nice have its rewards:P

* * *

**Chapter 2**

He whipped his head around so fast he felt his neck crick.

_'It has to be a dream.'_ Eclipse was in full denial. _'Definitely a dream…'_

But when the unmistakable curly head of none other than Krayon popped around the door, it was almost impossible to deny it any longer.

"Well, there's my favourite little demon lord," Krayon gushed, pinching Raenef on the cheek. "I hope Eclipse has been treating you well," he added, giving the dark-haired demon a sly look. Moving closer to Raenef under the pretence of sharing a secret, he spoke loud enough for Eclipse to hear him quite clearly, "I know he can be such an **animal**, the brute. You never would've guessed it by looking at him, but he is **wild** in bed—"

"Lord Krayon," Eclipse interrupted through gritted teeth, every part of his head throbbing. "What an _unexpected_ surprise. May I inquire as to why you are here?"

"Can't I visit a friend without being interrogated?" Krayon pouted.

"Of course. I simply wish to know the length of your stay, so that we may better accommodate you."

"Oh, Eclipse, you make it sound like you don't want me here." His rosy lips poked out even further, giving Eclipse his best puppy-dog face. Eclipse was blatantly ignoring him, and it was then that an idea popped into his scheming head. "Oh, I see," he said in a drawling voice. "I'm sorry to have interrupted your usual… activities. It seems to have made Eclipse quite testy."

Raenef blushed an incredible shade of crimson, while Eclipse could only stare in utter hatred. But of course, he could never say anything disrespectful to a demon lord. Even one as silly, stupid, ditzy, vain, lazy, and eccentric as this. No, no; it would go against all of his morals.

"Well, some _thirsts_ don't get better until they're quenched, so I'll leave the two of you alone. And don't worry, I won't be here for too _long_." He winked suggestively at Raenef, who managed to giggle despite the fact that Eclipse was now almost glaring at him. Just before he left the room, Krayon poked his head back around the door

"Oh, and Eclipse? Be a dear and move my bags into the West wing."

It took all the self-restraint Eclipse had not to launch a fireball at those mockingly springy curls.

-

"Why are you so stupid!" Erutis fumed for the billionth time as, once again, Chris couldn't grasp what she'd been trying to teach him.

"Why are **you** so stupid!"

"Yeah, great comeback Chris."

"Shut up! Who asked you?"

"No one! I can say whatever the hell I want!"

Chris merely rolled his eyes, having grown tired of this old routine by now (it was their 34th argument of the day… but who's keeping count?). As he had soon found out, the best way to win an argument with Erutis was to turn away and pretend to lose, then mutter incoherently under your breath, snicker at your own insult, and be happy with the fact that she had no clue what you've said to offend her. As it was, he was about to employ that strategy at that very moment.

Turning away slightly, he muttered darkly under his breath. "Boy, someone sure is PMS-y today…"

Unfortunately (as was sometimes the case – plans are perfect, people rarely are), this time Erutis's acute sense of hearing picked up on his words, and he was faced with an extremely pissed off demonslayer with an energy sword.

"WHAT. DID. YOU. JUST. SAY!" Erutis practically shrieked, and for the first time in his life Chris wished Eclipse had been there to stop their argument. If Erutis were actually a demon instead of a slayer, he could imagine her with large pointy horns and rivers of flame pouring forth from her nostrils (we all know demons don't look like that, but hey – he's a priest). He turned around to run as far away as he could, but found that Erutis already had the front of his tunic in a death grip. In most other cases, he would've been happy for her to have the shirt; hell, she could have his pants, too. But this particular tunic was the special one commissioned for him as high cleric, and he wasn't about to rip that quite so easily.

Cursing religion for probably getting him killed (then praying for ever thinking such a thing – if he died, he reallllly didn't want to go to hell), Chris squeezed his eyes shut as Erutis brought the sword high over her head, hand poised and ready to strike.

He was resigned. _'God, what a lame way to die: killed by a psychotic sword master at **that** time of the month. I mean, at least if she was wearing leather or something I could make it erotic, but no…'_

He braced for impact as Erutis's hand swung down with increasing velocity, and…

He squinted with his eyes shut. Well, if he had died, death had been rather painless, but he was afraid of what he'd see when he opened his eyes. Something told him that Rased did not appreciate his last inappropriate thought. Slowly, he peeled one eye open…

… and what he saw was worse than hell.

"Ahhh!"

-

"Huh?" Raenef looked up from his ornate desk, the difficult book of spells and incantations long ago ceasing to hold his attention. Perhaps he was just daydreaming, but he could've sworn he heard a very familiar voice scream…

Eclipse had lifted his eyes from his own book to study his liege. "Master Raenef, is anything the matter?"

"Eclipse, did you just hear someone scream?"

Eclipse frowned serenely, long-fingered hands gently closing the leather-bound volume in his lap. "No, I don't believe so."

"Hmm…" Raenef frowned as well. "That's odd… I could've sworn I heard something…"

By this time, Eclipse had moved from his own chair across the room to stand directly behind Raenef, hands resting evenly on his lord's slim shoulders.

"But if it was screaming you heard, we could always _make_ someone scream," he whispered huskily, lightly squeezing the tense muscles beneath his hands. Raenef had time only to begin to comprehend the sexual implications and for half a blush to creep onto his face before Eclipse grabbed his hand and said decisively, "The master bedroom."

The library was suddenly very empty, but house was just as suddenly a lot noisier.

-

"Ahh! YOU!"

He had not expected that face to be the one to greet him when he died; this had to be due punishment.

But on second analysis, Chris found that he was in exactly the same spot as he had been in before, Erutis was still fuming in front of him, and the only addition was the powdered face of one very queen-y demon lord.

The face smiled. "It's nice to see you too, numbskull. Oh, and you're welcome for saving your life."

At first Chris didn't understand what the smiling face had meant, but now he saw that Erutis's sword was held up solely by the firm hand grasping her arm, and said hand was attached to said smiling face.

He was too enraged by the fact that he owed a debt to a demon, then too weirded out by Krayon's unflinching expression of glee, that he couldn't even appreciate the fact that he was still alive. Realizing for the first time that there was nothing holding him there (Erutis had released his beloved tunic ages ago), he sprinted away in a cloud of dust.

"Argh! Damnit, let go of me!" Erutis growled, shooting a vehement glance at the more sober Krayon. He was only too happy to let her go.

"My, aren't we as spunky as ever," he smiled fondly at her as she un-energized her sword and put it back in its sheath.

"Ugh, get away, you perv! I won't marry you. EVER!"

Krayon sighed dramatically. "Ah, well… I was never really interested in you anyway."

"Good. **What!**" Erutis huffed. "You made me go through all that CRAP and you're not even interested in me! What the HELL is wrong with you?"

"Good question," Krayon mused, and Erutis was about ready to fall over sideways. "I guess you reminded me of someone… a long time ago."

Erutis stopped fuming for a moment, noticing for the first time that Krayon was being (was it true?) serious. She had never seen it before, but now she saw all the lines and emotions hiding beneath the outrageous clothes and hair.

"So, sorry about everything," Krayon smiled sheepishly. She still had the greatest urge to smack him, but it wasn't so malicious any more. She sighed heavily.

"Know what? I don't even care. It's over, it's done, it doesn't even matter anymore…" She turned to walk away, but his curiously gentle voice called her back.

"If you like him, you should tell him."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"That cleric… you should tell him how you feel."

"What are you—" her face heated up, and she tried to hide it with denial. "You're crazy! I don't like him." A laugh forced its way through, but it sounded fake even to her.

Krayon smiled a strangely tender smile she had never seen him smile before. "You can deny it to me all you want, but there's no way you can lie to yourself. It's just some advice; you really don't have to listen. But one day you might look back and think of how much more time you could've had together, if only you hadn't wasted it."

Erutis heard the sadness in his voice, but couldn't find the words to say before Krayon disappeared. She was left to stand alone in the desolate courtyard, feeling the cold breeze sweep through in a gust of pure melancholy.

**TBC**

* * *

_AN:_ Ok, so Krayon may seem a little OOC towards the end. So a little Erutis x Chris wormed its way in. And originally I had meant for this to be a two-chapter story, but it seems I'll have to go to three. I'll call it all "artistic license". And I have to say, upon re-reading the manga, that Krayon is actually rather...hot. Not counting the hair.

And this would've been updated earlier, if not for internet/technological glitches.


	3. End of Time

**Trick of Sweet Time**

_Disclaimer:_ This is a purely non-profit story written for entertainment purposes only. The characters of Demon Diary belong to their respective owners.

_Author's Notes:_ This isn't quite the way I wanted it to turn out, but I'm in a funny sort of mood. If I didn't write it now, it probably won't get done for ages. So… this is what it is. I hope some of you enjoy. And whether you do or don't, please review!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The night air was sweetly cold against his heated cheek as he opened the ancient window, rusted to the point of near immobility after extensive years of disuse. He had never particularly liked the guest quarters, as he had blatantly told his Raenef many times, but a demon lord of Raenef's sensibilities really couldn't truly understand the value of décor. He supposed he was an odd one; although he loved to burn and pillage as much as the next demon, he had a tendency to lean towards "happy" things in his likes. The dreary West wing with its antique furniture and years of tradition were chains of truth that bound him to time. If sunshine and meadows pleased him, why did it matter that they weren't "normal"? Why did it matter that they were against his very nature?

He closed his eyes and sighed. All the friends, all the parties, all the years… and not a single person understood him. The one who came closest, the one who accepted him, had died along with his youth. He had seen it all, done it all, felt it all; there had been enough life and enough death to satisfy him, enough talk and enough action, enough laughter and more than enough tears. Perhaps he was tragic; sometimes it felt that way – just a wrenching sort of feeling in his chest, hammering away at his insides until he wanted to scream. Lately he had alternated between fits of uncontrollable laughter, and periods of unprovoked tears. He really had to be getting senile; never had he been so polar, so… desolate.

A polite knock sounded at his door. He turned away from the window, waving his hand to close it as he bade the visitor to enter.

"Lord Krayon," Eclipse's lithe form materialized from behind the door. "Is everything to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, it's fine," Krayon answered sombrely, surprising the other demon. "Sorry to disturb you, Eclipse."

Never had he heard a demon lord apologize before; nor had he ever heard a demon lord apologize to him (all aside from Raenef, of course). Not knowing what else to do, he simply bowed his head. "If you should require anything, I am at your service."

"Thank you, Eclipse," Krayon smiled.

He knew something was out of the ordinary; but demons were not trained in the art of caring, of emotions. He wanted to ask if anything was wrong, if anything was amiss, but all his good intentions (the ones he denied having, of course) went to waste. More baffled than ever, the much-sought-after demon turned to leave with as much confusion in his head as had ever been there before.

"Oh, and Eclipse?"

The dark-haired demon stopped short. "Yes, milord?"

"Take good care of that master of yours. Protect him with all of your love."

That was a positively ludicrous thing to say. "Lord Krayon?"

"It's not a terrible thing to express how you feel, Eclipse. One day you may wish you had discovered that earlier."

The gap had been fortified. All that he had to say, all that was left to do, was done. He turned resolutely away, leaving Eclipse to let himself out.

-

She was still in a pensively heart-rending mood when she bumped into Chris in the corridors. He shot her a terrified sort of glare, as if both afraid that she would try to kill him again, and already irritated at the insult he knew would come when she realized he had gotten lost for the umpteenth time. He was shocked when nothing of the sort occurred. Instead, Erutis had lifted sad eyes to study his face and said nothing. When many minutes had rolled by in silence, with Erutis's eyes still on him, Chris found he couldn't stand the quiet any longer.

"Hey, quit looking at me like that!" he barked, looking away in discomfort. Just what the heck was wrong with her, anyway?

She took a few steps toward him and he winced, certain that she would now deliver a fatal blow. He was surprised when, instead of hitting him as expected, she chained her arms loosely around his torso and rested her head on his shoulder.

"H-hey…" he half-exclaimed, feeling the blush creep up his face. "What are you doing?"

"Chris?" she said quietly, her face still buried in his tunic.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

His anger rose. "What? You're the one that came over here and—"

"Promise me you won't leave without telling me first."

He was thrown off track by her request. "What?"

"Promise me… that you won't run off and do something stupid without telling me first."

"Heeey, what the heck is **that** supposed to mea—"

"Promise?"

She hadn't moved at all, but her grip on his tunic was turning her knuckles white. The insistently quiet way that she asked him, almost pleaded with him, made him worry. And the last thing he ever wanted was to worry her.

"Sure thing," he replied just as quietly, looping his arms around her in the same manner. He thought it was the right thing to do. If nothing else, he had to say it felt rather… nice.

-

He picked up his bags and discreetly closed the door.

It had never been his intention to stay in the West wing. There was nothing to draw him, nothing to comfort him before he had to depart. Instead, he walked – light-footed – towards Raenef IV's chambers.

-

He returned to his master in the same state of confusion in which he had left. What could that crazy demon lord have meant?

As his eyes fell upon his current master, hair in disarray and head bent intently over a book, he felt a little tug in his chest. He didn't know about love, but this was the feeling he always got; a kind of protectiveness, consideration. He didn't know about love, but perhaps this came close.

"Eclipse?" Raenef asked questioningly when he spied his tutor standing immobile at the door. His eyes followed him as Eclipse came to kneel in front of his chair, placing a gentle kiss on his master's lips.

The young demon lord smiled fondly when they broke apart. "What was that for?" he asked innocently.

Eclipse opened his mouth to answer, but found he didn't have one. The look in his eyes was completely vulnerable. Raenef smiled and shushed him with another chaste kiss.

"Ok."

-

He closed the ornate doors silently, and walked brusquely to the fireplace to set down his bags. Undoing the clasp, he pulled out the only item inside – an elaborate gold mirror – and set it gently on the mantle. Casting his eyes about, he found that everything was almost the same as he remembered, simply covered up and burdened with age. He walked slowly about the room, letting his hands glide over the layer of dust that had settled over each sheet that covered the furnishings before smoothly pulling the fabric away. The folds of thread would cascade to the floor and pool by his feet, revealing a new piece of his recollection. His fingers would trail as memoirs floated by before he pushed them all aside and moved on to the next piece.

He had found it hardest to leave the bed. His hands clamoured desperately over the sheets that had once been like clouds between their legs, that had slipped through his fingers with barely a whisper. Their days of teasing and flirtation had dissipated eons ago. His eyes drifted to the life-size portrait, where Raenef's vivacity had been captured so well. The sea-green eyes and charcoal hair, coupled with the evasive smirk hiding childishly behind luscious lips. Was there ever a time he had not loved it?

Was there a time he had ever said he did?

There was one piece left to unveil. He could barely tear his eyes away from the seductive likeness, but he managed to will himself to in the end. This was the piece he had been anticipating, the one that would make it all complete. It had been swirling about in his head since the first day he had set eyes on it, and he found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it out. But there was something else he needed to do first.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of scissors, fingering a few locks cautiously.

Fisting all of his hair, he unleashed the scissors and made a resounding _snip_. Pulling aside the last white sheet, he pressed his wrinkled fingers onto the blended colours of paint, letting himself fall into a dream.

-

_They lay silently side-by-side, content simply to be. Their legs were entwined loosely, his lover's arm thrown over his waist in a quasi-protective gesture. The strands of their contrasting hairs mingled on the pillowcase, their smiles mirroring one another; the pinnacle of life, that absolute contentment. But he had thought it was the beginning, and he thought there would always be more(1). He could never understand it for what it was, and he could never accept it until it was too late._

_As he was lulled closer to the point of sleep, the edge of reason, his eyes fell on an object of interest. He lifted his head a little, using his arm to prop himself up. His lover's finished painting stood just beyond the comfortable reach of his eyes, so he squinted at it to make out the details. It didn't look any different; perhaps a few more brushstrokes, a better unification of the colours, but it seemed to him just as dreary as ever. Although, he had to admit it was beautiful. In all its morose glory, it still struck him as one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen._

_The little boat seemed to shout at him to save it._

"_Love?" _

"_Hmm?" the reply was drugged with sleep. _

"_What's it called?" he turned to look at the sleeping face._

"_What's what called?" Raenef asked, more alert as he cracked a sleepy eye open to look up at his lover. "You're really going to have to be—" he was interrupted by a yawn, "—more specific."_

_Krayon had to smile. What else was there to do? "Your painting, love. I want to know what your painting is called."_

"_Oh." For some reason, Raenef seemed to hesitate. He had brushed it off then, more impatient than anything. He hadn't realized half of what he should've; he hadn't realized what he needed to save._

"_What's it called?" he asked a little more insistently._

_This time there was no hesitation. "Ne'er to return."_

And he never did. The next morning, Krayon vanished as if he never existed. The only traces he left behind were the hacked locks of tangled hair and the dying glitter of twin stars, all lying agedly beside a cracked canvas of a once-beautiful picture

**END**

* * *

(1) - Borrowed from _The Hours_. If you haven't seen it, it's a brilliant movie. And if you do decide to see it, take lots of tissues. 

_AN:_ Ah, the angst. It seems a little odd towards the end, but I have this habit of writing endings first. Well, that is all. Finally, it's complete!


End file.
